scribblingfairytale

Note: Just like his mind, Kakashi´s memories are slightly scrambled. If you get confused, read the description. Chapter 2: Fleeting Memories Soft mumbling voices reached Kakashi´s ears as the darkness in his head allowed him more space to ascertain his own thoughts. Yet he felt himself drifting not able to think clearly, the voices around him muffled, their words passing through his head like the calming, constant stream of a river. As the muttering around him subsided, delicate hands came to rest on his bare chest and forehead. His body flinched at the sudden contact before relaxing itself to the provided warmth. He didn´t

Note: This may not be a traditional reader-insert as in the main character´s (= the reader´s) appearance is mostly set in stone especially regarding her eyes. If you can live with that fact, just start reading already :P Chapter 1: Friend or Foe? – Rescue of the Fifth Kazekage “Ha… Ha…” Kakashi brought out between pants. Exhaustion flooded every fibre of his being as he tried to hold his weight steady on the ground with his trembling arms. Even through the blood still rushing loudly through his veins he could hear the gasps and pants of his companions that were scattered behind him. Sakura, Naruto as

And so it was appointed that hence and furthermore the military of the human race shall be divided into three divisions, the Military Police, the Garrison and the Survey Corps, each lead by a Commander. Above them all stands only one person, the Generalissimo who checks their requests for supplies and funding, but it is not in his hands to approve the requests, and he will also be the head of the military court, punishing any failure in behavior of a soldier. However, the leaders of this world deciding upon the funding reserve the right to cut it off for a division, if it spends their funding and supplies too freely or does not avoid an unjus

Dear Diary, I actually hadn´t had a better idea how to address this piece of paper, or rather small notebook, nor did I know how to start writing to begin with. Well, here I am, sitting at my old, wooden desk with the small desk lamp spending enough light in the middle of the night to help me getting these words in my mind into this booklet. Paper is patient, they say. I guess that is true, because you could simply write down the biggest bullshit without anyone caring (unless they read this, of course). The paper, though, just listens, absorbing everything without questioning, assaulting or commenting. It does not judge, like many peopl

The rooms and walls of the Survey Corps headquarters are used to see soldiers running around and listen to yelled orders. Though there are two different kinds of bustles, both astonishingly similar and still absolutely different. Most people who stopped by any headquarter of the military, whether it was this one from the Survey Corps or one from the Military Police or Garrison, saw always the same image: Preparations of any kind. Soldiers with determination and concentration flickering in their eyes. But the soldiers of the Survey Corps don´t only know this kind of hustle in the courtyard of their headquarters. They also know a second o

Mirror, mirror on the wallWho´s the fairest of them all? Everyone knows the feeling when your heart is just like a knot in your chest. No matter what you do, it just gets tighter, leaving nearly no room to breathe properly. Hunger is something that seems like a part of a different life just like happiness and sunshine. Everything is just dull and dark. No reason to cherish. Just pain and sadness, that makes your heart only heavier in your chest. I blink and my eyebrows raise in question, the reflection in the mirror mimicking everything. Soon my nose crinkles in confusion as one of the songs that accompanied me the past weeks reaches my